


make it swing deep

by Yellow



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Multi, Suicide mention, blood cw, chapter 2 is just sad, cuts cw, giant tm25 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-19 10:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13122057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yellow/pseuds/Yellow
Summary: things after ep 25.Build me a cradle and make it swing deep /And you can tell all the neighbors that I just went to sleep





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> gigantic holiday special spoilers. title from "bloodlust" by aeseaes
> 
> .....
> 
> i'm sad.

Echo leans their head against the door. It’s locked. They’d tried it earlier and judged it was too thick to kick down. Not that they couldn’t get through it if they had to.

  
“Let me in.”

Silent again.

“I would have come sooner but we just got back.” Nothing. Echo laughs, light.

“Grand, you’re not the only one who’s made mistakes.” They imagine they hear a rustling sound and it encourages them.

“Did you forget that?” they say, amused, annoyed. “I was only on Quire because I had to be. And I think-I think I did good. I think I found something good.”

They turn their head so their ear is pressed up against the door. It’s cool and smooth. Metal, painted white. They wonder if Grand used to live here, before, and immediately dismisses it. Some sort of punishment.

And then-

“Are you going to kill yourself?” Echo asks, sudden.

A beat.

“No,” Grand says, quiet, far away, and Echo’s fingers dance over the door, light. They sigh.

“Thank you, Mags,” they say. “For telling me.”

There’s a quiet click and Echo takes it as permission. The door swings open and Echo sees Grand, pale, beard looking more like a week old than a day. He’s staring at a piece of qglass, gripping it tight in front of him. He’s sobbing, silent.

And it’s not just qglass-it’s a piece of-Echo is suddenly enraged.

They tear the piece of Independence from Grand’s hands. He was holding it so tight that the sharp edges leave gashes in his palms, but he scrambles to take it back anyway.

“You’re sitting here crying over your machine being destroyed?” Echo shouts, and looks down at the piece, moves to break it, somehow.

And what they see is-killer, monster, what their parents said they were, what they fear the Fleet sees them as-

And then Grand pulls it away from them and they look at him, dazed, tears on their cheeks.

“Is that- does that do that for everyone?”

Grand presses his lips together so hard they turn white and looks down at the glass. Echo snatches it back and shoves it in the wardrobe, a bare, metal thing. Grand looks up at them with wide eyes, still crying.

Echo won’t meet his eyes, just sucks in a breath at his palms, blood welling up from the cuts.

“First aid kit?”

Grand says nothing, just stares, so Echo sighs and tears their shirt. They wrap his hands and he lets them, watching, sniffling. And then Echo is done and they hold his hand for a moment longer, soft.

“We’ve all made mistakes, Grand.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and once he speaks, it’s like he can’t stop: “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Echo, I’m sorry-”

Echo has never been good at hugging-too bony, too shy- but they gather Grand up and hush him until he stops apologizing.

“I’m not who you need to apologize to,” Echo says. “Even and Gig are spitting mad, for starters.”

Grand nods, over and over. Echo takes his face in their hands and runs their thumbs under his eyes, impulsive.

“I’ll be back tomorrow. You eating?”

Grand nods, and manages a tiny smile.

“Thanks, Echo,” he says, and it’s one of the few times Echo’s ever heard Grand Magnificent deign to thank someone.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” they say again, and take the glass out of the closet. Grand’s eyes slide to it and Echo just shakes their head.

Even will destroy this, gleeful, and then that piece of shit will be gone forever.

And Grand-Grand will be fine, eventually.

Echo closes the door behind them, soft.

 

The next day, they knock and try the door again. It swings open on the first try this time. The room is bare. The bed is gone. So is the wardrobe. There’s not even a note.

Echo sits up against the wall, where the bed was.

They run their hand over the floor. They laugh. Even’s going to be furious.

 

Echo gets up.

  
They shut the door softly behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> even paces and shouts and wants to go out looking for him. gig is just-sad. he's sad, and he doesn't know what to do with it, and their calls come sparser, and even misses them all. they don't look for him, but they make a point to make certain people-cascara, signet-aware of where they are. just in case. they always expect to find him on their doorstep, but.
> 
> life isn't like the fairytales.
> 
> and a year passes, and they almost forget the way his voice broke on 'sorry,' and then-
> 
> \-------------------------------------------------------------------------
> 
> you can find me @capricioustube.


	2. contrition is fraught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> echo tells the others what happened.
> 
> "Bloodlust is the ticket and contrition is fraught /  
> You’ll have a hell of a time crawling back to the start"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wasn't done with my last fic i guess, thanks for killing me with ur predictions danny,

Echo has never been scared of Even before, but they are for a split second, seeing his face change.

“He’s  _ gone _ ?” he snarls, and Echo flinches back. Even’s face falls and he rubs a hand over his face. 

“I’m sorry, Echo,” he says, soft, and pulls them to him, gentle. Echo goes, pliant, but thinks for the first time about how terrifying Even must have been, down there on Volition. His hugs are always so firm. Echo’s learned where to put their hands to avoid his wings. Echo feels their shoulders drop. They hadn’t even noticed they were that tense. 

Even is still tense. Echo can feel it. He holds them a little too tight. And when he steps back-three steps, Echo notes, far enough away that he’d have to move to hit them-he turns to Echo and looks at them, purses his lips.

“You went to see him?” he asks, low.

“If the Fleet had given up on me when I made my first mistake, I never would have met you,” Echo says, even.

Gig is in the corner, sitting on the bed. Knees up to his chin, huddled in the corner of the room. Even likes sleeping with the wall to his back.

He makes a little sound at that. Echo glances at him.

Even sighs, long, and looks at Echo. “Don’t-you never killed a Divine,” he says. Echo doesn’t answer, just stares at him. “Didn’t you?” he asks, voice laced with desperation.

Gig whimpers from the corner.

“Don’t fight,” he says. “Please don’t fight,” and then Echo and Even are both there next to him. Even pulls him close. Gig lets himself be untangled and lays his head on Even’s shoulder, looks at Echo. He’s breathing in sobs but he’s not crying. It breaks Echo’s heart.

They put a hand in his hair and he blinks up at them, turns his face into Even’s shoulder. Even grips him tighter, and Echo steps back. 

“It shouldn’t matter what I did,” they say. “It shouldn’t matter what Grand did-”

“I don’t see him in Contrition’s Figure,” Even snaps, and Gig flinches. Even soothes him-little apologies, stroking his hair.

“We go find him, then.” Echo puts a hand on Even’s shoulder, and he allows it. Even slowly relaxes as they rub his shoulder.

“He’s gonna be hard to find.” Even says it into Gig’s hair.

Gig turns his face back towards Echo. He takes a deep breath.

“Not for me,” he says, smiling, weak.

Echo strokes his hair again, and this time they both allow it. 

“Come here,” Even says, rough, and pulls Echo down on the bed, too. Even moves so his back is to the wall and Echo and Gig are both tangled in his lap. 

“It was bad,” Even says, after a minute. A tear drops on Echo’s cheek and they untangle themself from him, look up at him. He’s got an arm thrown over his eyes. 

Echo slowly takes it away and wipes his tears away with their sleeve.

“I couldn’t, I couldn’t talk him down,” he says. “Maybe you cou-”

“Shh,” Echo says, and reaches up to kiss his forehead, his cheeks. “It’s not your fault.”

Gig is making those horrible sobbing noises again, staring at them, eyes wide. Echo reaches a hand down, cups his cheek.

“Do you remember how to cry?” Echo says, and Gig shakes his head, over and over.

“Why can’t I cry?” he asks, and squeezes his eyes shut, shakes his head. He gasps for breath and Echo finally sees tears in his eyes, rubs their thumb over his cheekbone.

“Come on, Gig,” they say, and then he’s actually crying, sobbing, taking in big rattling breaths.

“Come on,” Echo says, and maneuvers them to lie down, lies in-between them, holds their hands.

“We’ll be okay,” they say. “We’ll find him.” 

 

They say it, over and over, until they start to believe it’s true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me @capricioustube


End file.
